


Better Than A Dream

by Zagzagael



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:11:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zagzagael/pseuds/Zagzagael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still writing to prompts at LJ's walkingdead_tv community.</p><p>CHARACTERS: Rick, Daryl<br/>PAIRINGS: Rick/Daryl<br/>PROMPT: any season, shared handjob, Rick wants to be kissed though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than A Dream

He found him on watch, climbed down from the guard tower, standing near the chain-link and with his face turned into the rising sun. The grey morning light slowly waking the world back up to colour and warmth. There was no possible way to sneak up on the man and he slowed to a stand in the yard, stretching his long arms up high over his head, rocking forward on the balls of his feet, keeping his gaze fast and familiar on the broad shoulders. 

Finally, he began a lazy long stride over to him, and watched as he turned his head sideways and down, the masculine profile outlined against the thin light. He stepped up beside him.

“Mornin’,” the gruff voice even gruffer from hours of disuse. “Early for you.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Mmmmm. Bad dream?”

He snorted a surprised short laugh. 

Daryl turned and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Dumb question. Huh?”

“Nope,” Rick answered. “But it wasn’t a bad dream that woke me.” He held Daryl’s steady stare. Then he looked away, out through the fence, down to the narrow tree line. “It was a good dream. Damn good.”

Daryl nodded. “Don’t have many of them myself.”

“It was about you. Actually.”

He swiveled his head fast, snake bit by the words. The intent. “That’s what’s got you out here? Looking hungry?”

“I dunno.”

“Yeah. You do know. Doesn’t make any difference.” Looking away again, but this time with a slight shuffle to his booted feet.

“Doesn’t it though?”

“Jes’ a dream.”

He shrugged. “Nice to wake up to. That’s something different.”

Daryl nodded, a languorous movement of his beautiful head, a slight downturn of his shoulder and Rick moved his own shoulder slowly to press against him, answer the motion. Daryl huffed and murmured softly. “So, what do you want me to do about,” pause, “your dream?”

Rick smiled, broad and relieved. “If I told you, would you?”

Daryl walked away, shaking his head, disappearing around the far side of the tower. Rick followed. As soon as he stepped around the corner, the other man had him by the front of his shirt, the material bunched into both fists, turning him fast and hard, slamming his back against the cinder block wall. He pressed him with the strength and weight of his body, one thigh pushing between his own. Rick arched his own hips into Daryl’s and rolled the back of his head against the unforgiving cement, eyes closed tight.

“You wanta play games?” Daryl had his hot mouth on the juncture of his throat, teeth nipping into the thick tendon of his shoulder. “This what ya dream about, Grimes?”

“Mebbee.”

Daryl bit and Rick moaned out in the affirmative. “Yes, yes, yeah, okay. This is what I dream about.”

He reached out for Daryl’s hips, thumbs bruising deep into the jutting hipbones. They were all getting too thin. In a strange non-sequiter, he reminded himself to make sure Beth was eating. Then Daryl was tonguing into the groove between his collarbones and coherent thought left him. Again.

He tipped his head down, their foreheads bumping slightly. “Should we go up?” indicating the tower above their heads with an upraised shoulder.

“Naw, if you’re fast enough, we can do it here. Ain’t nobody awake but us and them Walkers over there.” Daryl was reaching between their bodies for Rick’s belt, pulling the end free of the buckle with a satisfying snicking sound. “Tell me ‘bout this dream of yours,” he whispered and then he had Rick’s fly petaled open and his cock tight in his fist. He jacked him once soft, then twice hard enough to trap Rick’s answer inside his throat.

“Fuck,” Rick drew out slow, tasting the adrenaline lust on the back of his tongue.

“Yeah, and?” With his free hand, Daryl pulled his own zipper down, and then had both their cocks trapped together in between his sweating palms.

Rick couldn’t breathe.

“Something like this?” Daryl’s words were punctuated by his own gasping groans.

“We were kissing.”

This stopped the friction. “Kissing?”

Rick nodded, his forehead pressed against Daryl’s temple.

“Not much for kissin’.”

“You gonna make me ask?”

Daryl let go and drove his hips hard into Rick, until he moaned. “Beg,” he told him.

“Really?”

Daryl shook his head, then lifted his hands and cupped Rick’s face hard-soft, index fingers in his ears, thumbs pushing his jaw up, looking at him from inches away, sharing breaths. Then he brought his mouth down onto Rick’s mouth and Rick could feel the other man smiling. He closed his eyes.

Better than a dream.


End file.
